Darcy loved everything about Arizona. She enjoyed the mild climate, the extraordinary beauty of the area, the outdoor life it offered. On their days off, she and Clemmie went hiking and sometimes rented horses to ride into the desert. The longer she was here, the more she could imagine living in Arizona forever.
Being a Harvey Girl had broadened her horizons in every way. She was daily coming into contact with interesting people. The hotel guests were sophisticated travelers from cosmopolitan backgrounds. She was learning so much just observing them. Even though the Harvey system prohibited socializing with customers, it was natural to form warm relationships with those one served regularly. Most of the Harvey Girls received social invitations from customers not aware of the rules, Darcy had not found this Harvey code hard to live by. That is, until one morning when a tall young man walked into the restaurant.
Darcy was on the breakfast shift and noticed him at once. Who wouldn’t have? At six foot three he was a towering presence. At the door he removed his wide-brimmed cowboy hat and surveyed the room, then moved with a kind of athletic grace over to the counter and sat down.
In spite of his cowboy appearance, he spoke with an eastern accent as he ordered one of Harvey’s famous cinnamon rolls—always served warm from the oven—and coffee, black.
As she poured his coffee, Darcy had a chance to observe him at close range. His features were strongly molded in a deeply tanned face, his eyes very blue. He wore a blue shirt under a riding jacket of worn tweed with leather elbow patches. He thanked her courteously as she placed his plate before him.
Soon after that first morning, Darcy could almost set her watch by him. Every day as soon as the restaurant opened, he arrived in a fresh shirt, cleanly shaved, his hair combed neatly. For breakfast he always sat at the counter, acknowledging Darcy with a shy smile and a cheerful “Good morning.”
In the evenings he dined in the restaurant alone at a table in Darcy’s station. He was very polite, speaking in a cultured voice and always leaving a large tip.
None of this was lost on Clemmie. She began to tease Darcy about him. “I think he’s sweet on you.”
At first Darcy dismissed that claim. But after two weeks she could not deny it. It was too obvious. She could feel his eyes upon her as she went about her regular duties in the dining room, setting up tables in her station, placing the plates just so, lining up the flatware, arranging the cups and saucers, folding the napkins. The fact that it did not annoy her was surprising. He was always perfectly gentlemanly when he addressed her. It was Clemmie who learned his name from the hotel desk clerk and informed Darcy.
“His name is Ted Shepherd. He’s not a cowboy or a cattleman. He’s from back east. From Maryland, it says on the hotel register.”
“Leave it to you, Clemmie. Did you ever consider becoming a Pinkerton detective?” Darcy said, rolling her eyes and pretending not to be too interested.
“Want to know what else I found out?”
Darcy shrugged with pretended indifference.
“Well, all right, then—” Clemmie turned away.
“Wait! Yes, sure I want to know,” Darcy admitted.
“I also found out he rents a horse and rides out to the desert every morning before he comes in here for breakfast. He may be looking for ranch property. Could be he’s looking to settle down here. Maybe looking for a wife?”
“More likely he plans to bring a bride out here when he finds what he wants,” suggested Darcy, hoping it wasn’t so.
“More important, when is he ever going to get up enough nerve to say more to you than ‘Good morning’ or ‘Good evening’ or ‘Much obliged’ or ‘Thank you, miss’ when he’s finished?” demanded Clemmie.
“What good would that do?” countered Darcy. “Remember, he’s a hotel guest as well as a restaurant customer.”
However, Darcy considered the possibilities. Maybe on her next free day she could rent a horse herself and ride out to the desert. No one could say anything if she happened to meet Ted Shepherd on the trail and had a friendly conversation, could they?
Before Darcy could act upon her vague idea, something unexpected happened.
One evening when Ted had finished his meal, Darcy came forward to clear his table. Instead of thanking her, placing the tip under his plate, and leaving, as he usually did, he remained seated. She continued removing the silver and plates onto her tray, trying not to be aware that he seemed to be deliberately lingering.
Finally he got to his feet, took a few steps, then turned back. “By the way, miss, I just wondered—do you ride? I mean, if you do, would you like to go riding sometime? With me?”
Startled, Darcy stared at him. Had he been reading her mind? She felt a rush of pleasure. Clemmie was right. He was interested in her. She hesitated. Wouldn’t it be all right to go horseback riding? Then her better judgment took over. What if someone saw them and reported back to the manager? Why risk getting fired? The idea of sneaking around to be with a man who was essentially still a stranger, the notion of carrying on a clandestine association, didn’t appeal to her. She was finding her ongoing deception to be a wearying burden. Why take on more guilt?
Darcy darted a quick look over her shoulder to where the head waitress, Miss Cannon, was standing, then said in a low voice, “I’m sorry, I can’t. I mean, we aren’t supposed to…you know…go out with hotel guests.”
Ted looked genuinely disappointed. After a minute’s pause he said, “I understand. Sorry. Actually, I’m leaving to go back east day after tomorrow. I just thought it might be possible—” He halted as if not sure how to go on.
Darcy saw Miss Cannon looking at her curiously. Probably wondering about her prolonged conversation with one of the male diners. Darcy’s station was still not completely cleared, nor had the tablecloth been removed.
“I have to go,” Darcy murmured. She quickly gathered the rest of the dishes onto her tray.
She was sorry to see Ted Shepherd leave. She wished it had been possible to get to know him. She felt as if somehow she’d missed something. Something important.
She did miss seeing him every day. More than she could have guessed. She missed seeing him come in the dining room door and look around for her. She also missed the silly little flutter she got at the sight of him. His shy smile and the way his blue eyes seemed to light up when he saw her. How foolish! she chided herself. She hardly knew him.
Even so, she had been attracted to Ted Shepherd more than she liked to admit, more than she was willing to confess, even to Clemmie. The fact that she might never see him again made her strangely sad.
She compared her feelings about him with how she had once felt about Grady. Actually, she couldn’t remember what that had been like.